Always Blame the Detour
by FckyeahSeaKing
Summary: The point of an adventure is to get from A to B. Detours are the C's and D's of life, and the only purpose they ever serve is being an interesting story to tell someone later. And are they even worth it? Probably not, they are just the reason that no one ever makes it to B and is left with a C or a D.
1. Chapter 1:N: I Will Reinvent the World

**Chapter 1: N: I Will Reinvent the World**

**Authors note: I've never written fanfiction before (until now, that is). This story sort of popped in my head recently and begged to be written down, and I've obliged. I'm excited to see where it goes, and hope that you, the reader, enjoy it :)**

Two things were absolutely certain. One, It was thirty-three degrees. Celsius; to clarify. Two, I had run out of things I could reasonably do.

I sat down in the miserable heat of Undella bay and contemplated my diminishing amount of certainties. In an attempt to relieve myself from the humidity, I pull my hat off of my head and hold it in my hands. I hold it, considering its thickness with pressure from my hands. I do this until I feel the nerves on my head becoming acutely aware of the hats absence. I repeat this curious ritual of removing my hat, twisting it around in my hands, and replacing it on my head until I'm quite sure I've offended the eight year-old boy to my left. He is fixated on my cyclical behavior, tuning out what is presumably his family to watch each detail of the cycle.

Children are never afraid to stare.

Nor are they afraid to guess, to wonder, and commit social mores.

I adore the wonders of a young mind, even though I refused to match his stare. His fixation made my skin itch.

I force myself to lose interest and instead turn my thoughts to my own matters. After all, since one of my certainties was the certainty of being stuck, I supposed I might as well think of something.

I was on a quest. I guess that sounds a little grandeur; but it's true.

You see, my father has sent me on this 'quest.' His sending me is somewhat irrelevant. But it is true. I like sticking to things that are true. If something is untrue, the goal, naturally, is to search for the truth within that lie. By the same token, if something is true, there is nothing left to do, other than accepting truth itself.

I believe the following myth to be true.

A long time ago, in an archaic and feral Unova, there were two legendary dragons. I guess two is overstepping the better part of the story. There was an even longer time ago when it was just one dragon, used to end a war plaguing Unova in the ancient times, by twins. Hero twins, or so I'm told. The vital part is that these twins did not see eye to eye on what virtue was really most important – truth, or ideals.

In response to the quarrel, the dragon split himself into two; truth siding with the eldest brother, and ideals with the younger.

Like sensible men of these older times, they battled out this conflict with their respective Pokémon, only to discover that they were equally matched. They concluded that these differences were to be set aside.

Truth be told, people do not set aside arguments so easily. They say that the ancestors of the heroes went on to continue the fight. Generation after generation acting out the quest of truth and ideals with violence. Who knows if they ever stopped?

Perhaps they never did. If the quarrel continues, it is safe to say the battle remains solely among men, and that I have never personally caught wind of it occurring. The two dragons have passed into a deep slumber, only to wake when they are called upon. When a revolution is at last in order.

If this is true, I am sure that I have accepted it.

That revolution is now, and I'm going to be at its forefront.

Once I find the dragon (and I will), everyone will understand why Pokémon need to live separately from humans. It will be a new world, an ideal world, created just for my friends.

Someday, and then my friends will be happy. If this were simply a dream, then the moment it becomes tangible it will pop right before my eyes. And reality will crawl in the cracks of where those dreams used to exist. But it is more than a dream. It is the pinnacle of my ideals, giving it more reality than a dream could ever have.

Despite this, reality now is my body's reluctance to go any farther for today and the stifling heat and stinking humidity I have chosen to surrender to.

I raise my white flag of weariness in Undella bay. Swarmed with maniacs and tourists and families and rebels populating this commercialized area.

I am completely aware that I am one of the few denizens of the beach that isn't openly reveling in the environment.

There is a breeze. And an ocean, which stretches itself all the way to what is presumably the end of the world while still casually licking the shore. Sweat and sand clings to burning skin, and people walk by, smelling of sunscreen and cheap food. Most of these people have their Pokémon out to enjoy everything that they themselves are enjoying, but these Pokémon do not talk to me.

I do not mind this. They are preoccupied, and I am attempting to be inconspicuous. I just wonder if they are happy, being enslaved by these people. That is why this 'quest' is so vital. These people all have so much freedom. These Pokémon need their freedom, too. Father understands this too; his ideals and mine are one in the same.

My eventual end goal is Dragonspiral Tower. I know there is at least a clue there. A piece of tangible truth that will propel me, no, the world, closer to an ideal perfection. But for now, Undella Bay will have to do.

I rack my brain for any interesting thing I might know about this part of Unova.

One of the sages, and a personal teacher of mine to boot, used to talk about this ancient civilization that sleeps beneath the bay.

Looking out at the endless blue, I assume this bay has swallowed many secrets. I guess I can't be sure. One never really can.

I let hours pass me by, completely stationary, on the crowded beach.

I do not like crowds.

I watch afternoon become evening, just relishing in my thoughts and bearing with the heat. It's not as if I had anywhere to go, anyway, other than maybe sleeping on the couch at the Pokémon center.

I wasn't feeling that trashy and desperate. Not today, anyways. Spending an afternoon amidst a swarm of people somehow seemed far more appealing than getting chased out of a Pokémon center by a livid nurse.

I watch twilight darken the skies and dim the sparkling bay. I watch twilight chase the masses away.

Twilight wakes me from my drowsy, immobile state.

I decide upon a nice, wholesome stroll across the length of the beach. Hell, maybe I can find an artifact from that civilization, should the bay decide to spit one out. I guess I could show my aforementioned teacher. Artifacts will probably get me a pat on the back, or uselessly worthwhile.

I walk into the waning light of the sun, looking down at my feet the whole time. It's a bad habit, not looking forward when you walk. But it's incredibly natural for me; it decreases the likelihood I'll have to talk to a person.

I consider this a blessing.

One step invites another, only to invite numerous more, until I am swept off from the public area altogether.

I turn to the ocean and listen for the voices of my friends. I can see them, circling the water's surface, looking straight below. A small group of hungry Wingull, perfectly synchronized with each other.

My friends.

I wave an enthusiastic hello and they pivot to fly back my direction.

_Hello there._

I can hear their voices in my head. I smile and walk on, pleasantly unaware of the diminishing twilight, just focusing on the noiselessness of the area.

Undella bay is infinitely more peaceful in solitude. It seems as though too many people try to come all at once, so the place gets polluted. Polluted with noisy kids and tight bikinis and hairy chests.

None of the above dare disturb the tranquility now. The darkness chased that all away, leaving room for only the rhythmic tide and my free friends.

For now, I am among the things the darkness left behind. I'm glad of it. I listen to the water, and the rustling in the thickets that grow at a safe inland distance.

The rustling is distant first. I strain under its growth, eager to hear the voices of my nocturnal friends.

_Help! Anyone! Help!_

I am sure that I did not hear this. I stop completely, doubting my ears.

The urgency raises the amount of rustling into great cacophonies.

The rustling eased my doubts.

This is really happening. I am really two miles away from civilization. And there is really a friend in need.

This is not a Wingull. It's not a nocturnal friend. In fact, I'm sure it is not an indigenous friend at all. But it is a friend in danger nonetheless.

Two things were absolutely certain. I could head back now and pretend not to notice. No consequences there. Or I could head my friends call. The latter holding all the danger; to clarify.


	2. Chapter2:N: An Appetite for Complication

"Where are you?!" My voice has made my decision for me.

_Keep heading west. Hurry!_

I nod and take off sprinting towards the last renegade rays of sunlight. My friend howls and yelps to alert me of his location.

I know I'm at least some fifty yards away.

My lungs ignite with each gulp of oxygen; my ears strain to hear my friend. I cannot see at all anymore, the night has stolen all the colors and definition in the world. I slow to a trot and listen hard.

_Pl-please. Please hurry._

The whimpering is pathetic, but it is close. I'm afraid I took too long.

I do not let fear destroy my headstrong commitment to this rescue, "Friend, I'm here. Please help me see you. It's so dark."

I don't really know what I was expecting. I know I wasn't expecting a great orange flame to shoot up into the sky twenty feet to my left.

I hustle towards this flame as if entranced by its spell only to realize that the flame illuminated shadowy faces I'd previously failed to recognize.

My friend is there, a brilliant looking hell hound, with sleek black fur and a ferocious skeletal structure jutting out the front side of him. He is weak, and he is hovering over the body of a girl.

He bears a mouth full of vicious, yellow teeth and snarls at two men. They were older, though I would not have been prepared to say how old they were. They were husky looking in tight white tee shirts and tighter black leather jackets.

The one closest to me notices me first.

The sight of me causes him to belt out in rumbling, malicious laughter.

"Oh look mate. We've got ourselves a hero."

His 'mate' breaks joins him with an obnoxious cackle of his own. "You're damn right we do. Say, maybe 'e wants to play a lit'l game wif us."

"What about it, 'hero'?" The other looks at me. I notice he is taller than his 'mate.' He holds up fat fingers to make emphatic quotations in the air. "Wanna play a game?"

I draw in an audible breath, "eh, can't say I'm interested. Why don't you leave my friend alone."

I take a few steps closer to try and appear threatening.

I am not threatening.

This is the moment when I recognize that I have bitten off more than I can chew.

I remind myself that anything is worth saving a friend. I feel my resolve take me over.

"We already 'ad our way wif your friend, she ain't never gonna to be the same," the two men meet my step forward. Whatever they find so amusing about what they've done, I fail to find amusing myself. "But I 'spose you can 'ave the leftovers." The tall ones smile slowly morphs into a chesire grin, and I hear the flick of a switchblade.

I assess my options. I am in a wooded thicket along the cove, two miles from the town. Just me, my friend, that girl my friend is protecting, and two fat sons of bitches.

I laugh, watching their eyebrows knit in confusion. "I was talking about the Pokémon, but I guess you could stand to leave the girl alone too."

The tall one makes for a quick stab. I duck and grab his leg.

He topples onto a something with thorns.

His partner grabs a hold of my wrist. "Think you're hot shit, eh?" I can feel his spit on my face.

He twists my wrist.

"No!"

The pain makes my vision crawl with white stars. The white stars consume me, covering the affected arm.

I yelp, lean into him and shove him off. I stop to catch my breath.

His buddy is staggering back to his feet.

I accept I can't go it alone this time.

"Friend! I need your help. Just this once!"

I hear my friend move away from the girl's body.

I get behind one of the men, grabbing a meaty arm. I hear incomprehensible curses in my ear, the adrenaline drowns out the details.

I grab his arm, kick his back, and pull at the most unnatural angle I can muster.

The cracking bone resonates throughout the otherwise silent thicket.

I let go.

Everything is still for a moment.

A burst of infernal fire rushes past. I see the two men, one debilitated, running out of the woods. Farther west.

Away from the city.

I fall to my knees, clutch my wrist, and pull in a few deep breaths. "Friend." I am wheezing. "I am so sorry. I did not want you to fight for me. You are free to make your own choices. I didn't want to take that away from you." I breathe deeper, my lungs searching the air I drew in for some oxygen.

_I did it because I wanted to do it. It is nothing. We need to get back to a safe place. _My friend lumbers towards me and buries his head in my stomach. My friend is an awfully mild-mannered demon.

"You're right, Medical attention would be nice, I guess." I laugh despite myself. I get up, pat his enormous head, and begin to walk.

Urgent barks cause me to stop. "What is it?!" I wasn't sure I was prepared to handle any more unexpected occurrences. "We're going now."

_The girl._

Oh, yeah. I had disregarded that fact up until now.

Thinking about her made my wrist throb. I felt like I knew what my friend would have me do.

_She's coming with us. She is my trainer. And my friend._

Trainers never treat their Pokémon well. This is true.

I don't understand why my friend is saying the things he is. My friends also never lie. The affection for the girl is peculiar enough. "She's unconscious."

_Carry her._

I knew it.

There is no use in denying a friend.

I look her over, and readjust soggy, tattered clothing to give a facade of decency. She has this long flow of matted curls saturated with saltwater. Her skin is rough and salty and tan. Blood trickles out from cuts here and there and bruises remain well disguised in the dark.

"I don't know if she's… going to be okay."

_She will be._

I did not want to tell my new friend that I was not exactly eager for a two mile trek back to town with extra baggage. "Okay."

_Okay._

…

The walk was worse than I thought it would be. And I never had high expectations. My injured wrist was swelling under the girls' weight, and my legs slowly were turning to jelly. I had to stop to catch my breath far too often. The more I was forced to look down at the girl, the more I was convinced that my slow pace and rough handling would kill her.

She looked like a broken Butterfree. One side of her chest would inflate when the she would breathe out, and would deflate when she took a breath in, giving the overall look of an insect that's feebly twitching away its final moments. She did not open her eyes. And she was growing colder as the journey wore on.

I constantly resolved to quicken my pace.

Even more often I was halted my own limitations.

"Friend, I fear for her condition. Let's move quickly."

He didn't seem to want to reply. He stopped, then, thinking better of it, _yes. Could you tell me where we are? Your name? We are not from around here._

It was a diversion. He knew I spoke the truth. "My name is N. This is Unova. What are you friend? I've never seen you're like before."

_Unova? I've never heard of that. There is Kanto, and Jhoto, I know nothing beyond that. I am Houndoom. My name is Ombra._

"Did you just say…Kanto, and Jhoto? We're a long—"

_We are from Jhoto._

"Still! If you're telling the truth friend," I was getting my energy back with all this surprise. I'd heard of Jhoto, sure, but it was one forever and a half away from Unova, "-and I'm sure you are. What are you doing here?"

_We were in an accident at sea. Washed up here a few hours ago. Got attacked by those thugs. The rest you know about._

This story was impossible. "If you were at sea, not in a pokeball, you never could have made it."

_I was in a pokeball._

"Well, how did you get out?"

_Last feeble moments of consciousness from that girl in your arms when we washed up on shore._

I slowed down and considered this. "So…accident at sea. Are you willing to elaborate?"

_I think we're close to town._

Ombra, my friend, was right. The soft, yellow lights of Undella town were coming into view. I began to hasten towards the Pokémon center.

I barreled inside, followed by my limping companion. The nurses gaped at the scene unfolding before them. A soggy, tired boy carrying an indecent, emergent girl, followed by a wounded and foreign Pokémon.

The nurse kneeled down to my position, 'horror' could have legitimately been written across her face. "What happened?"

I sighed and met her gaze. "I found her and my friend… this Pokémon, about two miles west of the main bay area. They were washed up on the shore, and were attacked by two men. That's all I know."

She nods. "Thank you. Are you hurt?"

I look away. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Okay." She calls for help and a parade of Chancey's bring stretchers. Other nurses gather round to see the girl. One of the nurses mumbles something about hemothorax, flail chest, hypothermia… I'm losing consciousness over their assessment.

One of them leads my friend away for treatment. I try to follow.

"No. You should stay with the girl, in the area that treats people. We have that here. The Pokémon will be fine." She begins to walk away before I can begin my rebuttal.

_Keep her safe._

I nod. And smile. I didn't know there were Pokémon that could be happy with their trainers. But I'm exhausted. And I'll mull this all new information over later.

I follow them into the Emergency Room. They don't insist on treating my injuries right away. They are preoccupied with the girl.

They are cutting her skin open and inserting a tube in the opening between the ribs. I watch blood trickle down the tube into the collection device. They throw a mask on her and rip off the soiled saltwater clothes. A fresh gown ends up on her after hooking her up to a few more machines. One of the nurses muses about bathing her later, when she's stable.

I watch the nurses and their Pokémon go to and fro the bedside, like insects coming and going from a hive. After thirty minutes and a few sweaty brows they announce that she is stable.

Ombra will be happy that she made it.

I personally admit that I am shocked that she did.

"Hey, honey. Let me see that wrist." the nurse has taken the seat next to me.

I hold it out to her.

"Hmm. It's really quite edematous. And it's red. But I don't think it's broken." She paused, looking at my face this time. "You know, you really are quite the hero."

Suddenly, I wanted to tell her about the legendary dragons. About my ideals. How I would be an actual hero someday.

I wanted to, but I decided not to. The feeling left just as quickly as it had consumed me.

I didn't mean to just tell people about my 'quest.' That would complicate things for father. Besides, the 'quest' apparently came with detours.

I felt very obligated to stay with my friend, Ombra. At least until the girl woke up. I needed to see Ombra just one more time, to know he was okay. I set out on this detour for his sake. So I naturally have to see it through.

I gave the nurse a weak smile, "yeah, I guess so. I'm just glad I found them. Who knows what would have happened."

She put her hand on mine and locked our gazes. "You did a good thing. But you need your rest, too, hero. Listen, there's a vacant bed in this same room. If you use it for the remainder of the night, we won't charge you. I'm going to see if I can get you prescribed something for pain, I'll be back after I call the doctor. I'll write you in the notes as an outpatient."

"Okay. Thank you."

She gave my hand one last reassuring squeeze and took off just as hurriedly as she had come in. I wondered how my friend was doing. But the tiredness was slowly getting to me. I took one last look on the unexpected finding on the rescue mission. She was young, she was pretty, and it was unfortunate, about that accident. I assume it is polite to think about it that way.

I lie down in the vacant bed, and take off my hat and shoes. My eyes get heavy with situational exhaustion.

Yeah, it was a shame about that accident. But accidents happen, I guess…


	3. Chapter 3:C: The Morphine Diaries

**So, originally I really intended on having the girl be White. I later realized that just didn't make any chronological sense, because I wanted this story to take place before the plot of the first Black and White even happens. As a result, I was forced to use the power of *imagination* to come up with someone else entirely. I haven't really made an official decision on the kind of person she's going to be, but I have a good enough idea to have written my first chapter in her point of view. Her name is Charlotte (didn't want to get to cliche and give her some super weird name). In order to make the story read better, I'll put an N in front of the chapter names that are written in N's perspective, and a C in front of chapter names written in Charlotte's perspective. I guess that's enough of an author's note, but I hope you continue to enjoy this! Thanks to anyone and everyone who has picked up this story and taken the time to read it!**

* * *

The very first thing I remember is sound.

A high pitched ringing, that is creeping over every inch of my sightless world pries my eyelids open.

A white light grows in the distance, blotting out the black, until it covers my entire field of vision.

The white has stifled the ringing.

The white was just as sightless as the black.

After the white, I recall morphine. I could feel the morphine lift away all the perceptions of my body, leaving behind only the occasional itch to remind my brain that it belongs to a body. Morphine puts all emotions, save apathy, to rest. I itch, and I blink, but I am not really feeling anything.

Morphine is familiar. How else could I put a name to the feeling?

I am alone here.

I can't remember anything that existed before the haziness of my high that goes on forever. It's not as if I'd even say I care to remember. Morphine is all that matters now; it is my only friend in this foreign and monochromatic place I inhabit.

Other creatures begin to visit my white universe. Looming black shadows with hands that would touch me yet were never felt. They whisper things I couldn't quite understand and stare into my visionless eyes.

I wondered idly about what they were doing here.

Perhaps I was dead, and they were trying to urge me to come with them. I never made any motion to acknowledge them; I wasn't ready to leave here, not yet.

They would give me morphine.

I wanted to enjoy the supply of morphine just a little bit longer. Maybe this was selfish. Maybe _I _am selfish. Not that it means anything. I have transcended such matters.

I am observing my environment now, it is bright and it is comfortable. A shadow saunters in the left side of this universe, stopping to stare straight down at me. The whole action seems like an afterthought. It was as though he didn't notice me, but he had to of, I am the only one here.

I blink at the shadow, trying to focus. Maybe I will finally let the shadow lead me away from here.

The shadow becomes more humanoid the longer I focus. It's stillness aiding my ability to make it out. Color starts define the shadow.

The shadow is a boy. I'm unprepared to describe anything aside from that. Conceivably, this could be the supplier of the morphine. It's also entirely plausible that he is not the same shadow, I suppose.

I think he is going to take me away. He looks like he wants to say something. Just, he can't find a way to tell a stranger his plan.

I think I understand that. I want to open my mouth, explain I can handle the news, but my dry tongue refuses all movement. I opt to wait.

I began to cry. Not the excess and explanations. Just two rebellious tears that well up on the rims of my eyes and slide down my cheek with the help of gravity and a fervent flutter of eyelashes.

These were excuseless tears. There was no reason, I simply cried because that is what my body felt like doing.

I reached out my hand to him.

Actions without excuses were slowly becoming my specialty.

It's possible I was trying to let him know I was ready to go. The people of this world seem to have no understanding of my gestures; I fail to read the changes in his face.

He takes my hand.

I could feel a reassuring squeeze on my skin.

I begin to remember a sensation. This is the first sensation other than morphine I have experienced in this white abyss. I do not know what the sensation is called. But it is consoling.

He never ended up taking me anywhere.

That meant that this was it, there is nowhere else to go. I would live in the light with morphine forever, only to be visited by the shadows.

This, then, was peace.

I never realized how sleepy peace could make a person. Maybe the entire event I just endured happened so that I could better understand peace.

Now that I understand, I am exhausted.

Morphine kisses my eyes and closes them shut. I turn my full attention to the drug, freeing my mind from the boy. Worldly cares have released me entirely. Drowsiness replaces all of this, and morphine sends me to sleep. I don't think I'll ever remember if I released his hand.


	4. Chapter 4:N: The Sobriety Soliloquy

Ombra took longer to recover than I originally imagined. He limps towards me, some forty-eight hours after our last encounter.

I'd really considered leaving him and this town behind, it's not like he'd ever figure out where I went. My obligation to our friendship ended up stopping me from ever doing so.

I kneel next to him on the hospital floor. "You're okay." I smile at him despite the obvious weariness about him.

_I'm okay. How is Charlotte?_

"Charlotte?"

_The girl you've been with the past two days._

Honestly, I haven't been here more often than I needed to be. I took advantage of the fact that the nurses would let me sleep in the vacant bed in this room. Other than that, I've been spending entire days at the bay, not willing to let these four walls trap me in.

There was a valid excuse somewhere in my absence; I just needed to search for it. I could try and explain my 'quest,' and how I should be getting on my way by now. Explaining that I'm three days behind meeting up with a legendary dragon, and, you know, taking my place as the hero just seemed a bit insincere.

My conscious is trying to hold me back.

"She's been okay." I don't need to feel bad about stretching the truth, not if it'll just worry Ombra unnecessarily.

He gets close to my face, forcing eye contact upon me. _You don't seem so sure._

My conscious is starting to get in the way. "Well, you know, she's just been asleep. So I guess that's okay enough, right?" Might as well let it continue getting in the way.

Ombra doesn't seem pleased.

I contemplate a way to make my escape; I really need to make it to Lacunosa town and beyond. I wish there was some polite way to say goodbye.

A sinister silence grew between us with each passing second. I avoided his gaze. Afraid of what he wanted to say to me. Afraid that he might call me out on the fact that I took little to no interest in Charlotte's care.

It isn't my fault that it really didn't matter to me. It never needed to. Saving her was simply a byproduct of saving Ombra. Not that I minded. It just didn't matter. Not like Ombra did.

I refused to be the first to break, I instead became stoically fixated on the white wall, blocking out the thick tension entirely.

_Stay with me._

I didn't expect it, nor even necessarily welcome it.

"I'm surprised to hear you say that. It honestly wasn't my intention to stay. I-uh, have somewhere I'm headed. I just wanted to see you one last time, make sure you were okay."

_This Unova is strange place. Charlotte, when she wakes, will have no one. Please stay. Take us with you, if you must._

"She has you. And besides, I'd doubt you'd want to go where I'm going, it's not that-um- interesting."

_Pity for humans is beyond you, isn't it?_

I consider this. "It is largely withheld. I'm not really a people person. I was raised by Pokémon." I laugh to try to and imply that I don't mean it, even though I really do.

_For my sake, then. At least until we can figure something out. You're the only person we have._

"You have to put it that way?"

_Yes._

"Okay."

_Okay. Okay meaning-?_

"Undecided." I look down at my friend; he lies down on the floor now, eyes half shut. "You know, you really should be in the wild, with others like-"

_There is no one like me in this region._

I stand up off of the floor; I realize he's right. Ombra is a perfect foreigner, even among the Pokémon here. Would it really be so cruel to leave him? He does have this girl.

Does that even count for anything?

I walk over to the bedside. Charlotte, I guess that is her name, and I guess I should try to learn it; lays there, unmoving save a breath here and there. It's been two days. This immobility hasn't changed, or I haven't noticed it change (not that I've even tried to be around and witness one), but the array of technology she is hooked up to states that she is still alive. I don't even know if it's fair, but I blame her for my setback. Had I only rescued Ombra, he could have just gone with me.

Charlotte just complicates things. She has a lot more potential to not understand my 'quest.' I don't need something like that, not now.

I walk up to the bedside. I admit I haven't done this yet, not since I brought her here. I spent the entirety of yesterday away from her. I should have skipped town while I had the chance, but it's too late now.

I look Charlotte over for the first time since I carried her back to town. She is more bruised than I originally thought, but she looks alive enough. The nurses bathed all the salt out of her hair, hinting that it might have once been soft. The tattered clothes are gone, replaced by a hospital gown.

She opens her eyes.

I flinch. That was probably an offensive thing to do, but hell, it was unexpected, and there was at least a justification for my rudeness.

I look back at her, her eyes are utterly vacant. They are dark, but not mysterious. They are the void.

One tear rolls out of the void.

A second follows.

Her hand reaches out to me. I grab it, unable to think of anything else to do. She smiles, and she is looking past me. I doubt she is even aware of what is going on.

She looks through me for awhile.

I admit I am fascinated by this.

I hold her hand and imagine where she is. I think she sees me after awhile, her eyes dart around, and fix on me.

There is no change in her face.

Eventually, exhaustion allegedly takes control and her eyelids slowly flutter themselves shut.

I untangle my hand from hers.

I mull over the interaction. I feel like it took something away from me. There was a distinct nothingness about her.

I found it altogether unnerving.

Ombra expectantly paces by my feet.

I rejoin him on the floor. I guess if I leave him now, I am leaving him with nothing.

"I'll stay."

Ombra gets off the floor and limps to my feet, I sit up onto my knees and scratch his head; he leans into the affection.

_Thank you._

"For your sake." I reiterate.

_You insist I be with my own kind, yet you avoid your own?_

"Yeah… Well." I trail off and wonder if this is true.

Ombra lays down next me, and his head is in my hands. I scratch his fur absent-mindedly.

I never meant to bring extra baggage to Dragonspiral Tower. This is my journey.

Mine alone.

I'm sure I'll regret my refusal to cut them loose eventually. At least it felt like I was doing the right thing. I look over my two new partners that are going to be thrust along into a quest that most likely means nothing to them.

It won't be my fault if they later regret their decision. I did everything I could to lead them as far away from me as possible.


	5. Chapter 5:C: Brave New World

My body is on fire.

The flame centers in my chest and creep down every limb, licking each extremity, melting all my organs.

In this moment, I am a child, capable of the most impotent and barbaric screams.

The burning sensation makes me aware of the world around me.

There is a tube in my nose.

Holy shit.

There is a fucking tube in my nose. I tug at it viciously, and discard it on the floor.

"STOP! You're okay; you're okay, what are you doing?" A woman rushes in, her disbelief all too apparent.

"I can…" She nods me along. "I can feel my body. My body is burning!" I am screaming again.

A knowing look crosses her face. "Give me one second."

She nonchalantly gets up and walks away.

"NO!" I cannot bare the loneliness. "Where are you going?! Please don't- please don't leave me here!"

Time barely crawled along in her absence. Reality was sinking in; hysterics accompanying it. There were tubes shoved into my chest. A tube I ripped out of my nose. Some tube in my mouth. A needle connected to tubing in my arm. Most horrifying of all, I am naked beneath this thin blue robe.

I missed the white world.

I don't know if I've ever missed anything quite so much.

I jolt up in the bed as the woman returns from wherever it was that she went.

"Where did you go?"

She gives me a meek half-smile. "To get you medicine-this is going to help you relax. Okay?"

"Okay."

It goes straight into the tube that connects to a vein.

Morphine.

The woman sits on the side of the bed and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Why did you pull your feeding tube out?"

Feeding tube? I'm definitely missing something. I fear whatever comes out of her mouth next. Maybe she'll tell me my entire life was just some dream I was having in a coma.

"I am afraid."

Her face softens. "Will you talk to me about it?"

I can feel myself getting high. I am released from the fire, and from the pain. "What do I say?" I stare blankly at her.

"Say anything you need to." She's continually rubbing my shoulder with that look of concern on her face.

"Why am I like this?"

She takes a deep breath, looking straight at me. "You were in an accident. An accident that happened at sea, that is all we know. You were originally found by two men. They-um- violated you. We're really unsure to what extent. We don't know how to proceed, either; we have no good description of them." She stopped, trying to assess how I was handling this. "There was a hemorrhage in your lungs. A broken rib, that'll heal on its own time. A sprained ankle, that's healing just fine, shouldn't impair your walking much. There was a small bleed in your brain, too. But the damage isn't very extensive at all; your brain should be okay."

I have no real response to what I'm being told. "How did I get here?"

"A gentleman, accompanied by a Pokémon he claims is yours, brought you here."

I remember none of this. I don't know if I really want to. I don't even know if it's true.

Yes, this has to be some sick joke.

She's lying.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I? When can I wake up?"

The woman begins to look very uncomfortable. "This is not a dream. We need to care for you. No more ripping anything out, okay? Do you remember anything that happened to you?"

"I don't think-eh-well, okay."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"I'm here to listen."

"It's just the meds, making me feel funny. I don't know anything." This is a lie, I can handle my morphine.

"Okay." She points to a string hanging from the wall by my bed. "Pull that string, if you need me, I'll come."

"Okay."

"Okay, please, get some rest." She gives me a gracious smile and takes her leave.

I am alone now.

I didn't realize how much I wanted to be alone until I was. It's funny how I tried to fight being alone, too. Even though it was what I actually wanted the whole time. I sighed out the excess air in my lungs.

So, that lady said I had an accident at sea. I wonder if I was traveling to Cianwood City. It's possible; I guess I hadn't been in awhile. Or maybe I was going to Vermillion City? I did get those passes for the Jhoto to Kanto boats. I could be in Kanto now. I meant to go there, too. I wanted to challenge the Viridian City gym. I wanted to do a lot.

Accident at sea allegedly wasn't the half of it. Abused by two men? I think she was lying when she said she didn't know to what extent. She seemed to know what she was talking about.

Yes. I like that idea.

That idea makes sense.

I should be glad I cannot recollect this for now. At least, I can't really recollect it. When I try to think about it, the memories are just distorted noises.

Distorted noises and nothing more.

I wonder where my Pokémon are. I had Pokémon. I was a Pokémon trainer; I had been for some time. I'm sure about that. But I can't say who my Pokémon were, or where they are now.

Morphine reminds me not to freak out.

There is nothing I can do now.

Women and their Pokémon come to the bedside. They explain things I don't bother to listen to and take the tube out of my mouth, and replace it with a mask.

I don't care.

This world doesn't make any sense. I'd like to not be a part of it anymore. And since I tire of existing here, there is always, unfailingly, sleep.

I think I'll just dream this all away, when I wake up, these horrors will be gone and reality will be as it always was.

So I decide to do just that.


	6. Chapter 6:C: You, of All People

I can feel breathing on my cheek. I wave a hand in the air, trying to push whatever it is away, and turn on my side. I can still feel the breaths warming the skin around my ear.

I feebly attempt to escape.

I am unsuccessful.

My eyes open, looking for the perpetrator.

My surroundings slowly come into focus. The creature licking me is an enormous, fierce looking Pokémon. He eyes me expectantly.

The familiarity eats at me. I know this Pokémon. I love this Pokémon.

I touch his cold, wet nose. "I know you."

He whimpers, but does not look away.

Recognition is practically screaming at me.

"…Ombra?"

Ding-ding.

His excitement is practically tangible; I must have given a satisfactory answer.

"Oh my Arcerus, Ombra, it's you." I throw my arms around his thick neck and bury my face in his black fur. Ombra is the first familiar thing that's happened to me in far too long.

Ombra is definitely my Pokémon.

"You won't believe what this lady tried to tell me. She tried to tell me I was at some accident at sea and that there were these men and-oh. I'm just so glad to see you. We need a vacation buddy. After all of this." I let go and look at him, waiting to feel like he agrees with me again. I never get that satisfaction; instead he chooses to look concerned.

This can't be good.

"Ombra?"That look could scare me into believing the woman. "That lady was just saying things. Don't worry. I wasn't in any accident." I smooth the fur on top of his head with my hand. I decide I like this moment, it makes sense, and I needed that desperately.

"If you weren't any accident, then why are you in a hospital?"For the first time I notice there is a man leaning against the doorway of the room, with one foot on the floor and the other on the wall. He abruptly kicks himself off of the wall and walks towards Ombra and I.

Great.

I was really just trying to have a genuine moment with my Pokémon.

I realize I recognize him. He was that boy that held my hand when I was in the white world. His eccentric appearance is hard to forget. Not a lot of other people have long, greenish hair that sticks out at such impossible angles.

I back up as he approaches. "What are you doing here? You don't belong here." The boy is unnerving to me, he's just adding to my disassociation with reality.

He laughs at me. "_I _don't belong here? That's rich. Do you even know where you are?"

Not as friendly as I would've hoped. And the answer to his question was a very obvious no.

But saying no was going to make me look weak, possibly even stupid.

"Of course I know where I am."

He shakes his head. "All right, well, go on and tell me-"

Ombra narrows his eyes and a low growl rumbles dangerously within his throat.

"Fine. Fine, Ombra, I wasn't trying to be rude. I was simply making a point." He holds his hands up to indicate a truce.

Was he just… talking to my Pokémon?

He notices my confusion.

"I can hear the inner voices of Pokémon, I can talk to them." He says, deciding to explain.

It is my turn to snicker.

"Oh, okay! You must be _so _sensitive. Did daddy forget to tell you that you were special when you were a kid so you had to go and make something like that up?" I stop laughing, and make decided eye contact. "You've got to be full of shit. Or delusional." I pause and mull this over, "or both."

Ombra turns on me now with a similar, threatening snarl.

To complicate matters, the boy does look pretty offended. Maybe the whole daddy thing was a little harsh. You never can be to careful about mentioning family these days. But in my defense, his notion of 'hearing the inner voices of Pokémon' is awfully fantastical.

That moment I was having where my life was making sense seems to have left just as quickly as it had come. I miss it desperately.

"Ombra?" I can see the glint in his eyes, almost as if he's trying to say, _be nice_.

By now the guilt of my callous outburst has eaten me up enough for me to be receptive to Ombra's implied plea of having a civil interaction with this stranger.

"My Pokémon's right, I ought to be more polite." I sigh, trying to exhale the testiness. "Let's start this all over. What is your name, sir?"

A smile creeps up on his otherwise harsh looking face. It is an intensely awkward smile, but it's better than that distasteful look he was previously wearing, "I'm N. And your name is Charlotte. Did you know that?"

"Just… N?"

"Just N."

"Okay. And yeah, I think I knew that was my name. I guess I just wasn't thinking about it. Sorry, my memories kind of fuzzy, but I swear I've seen you before." I feel uncomfortable admitting this and avoid his stare, "anyways, maybe it was someone else. It's-uh-nice to meet you."

Feigning politeness might kill me; I just have to hope it'll kill him first.

"Likewise." He takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

"You're lying." I don't want him to like me. I'd rather have an excuse to feel justified in disliking him.

He seems overwhelmingly unconcerned, "I might be."

Fair enough. I can't think of any other way to get a reaction out of him. I suppose it's not worth it to be cruel to him. I stretch myself out on the bed, still turned to look straight up at N. Lanky, awkward N who Ombra apparently insists I get along with.

"I'd bet you'd like to know where you are." He finally ventures.

"I think I'd like that very much."

He smiles again, but this new smile presents itself more as a sarcastic smirk, which ultimately suits him better. "You're in the Unova region, in Undella town, the metropolitan area of Undella bay."

He is looking at me as if this is supposed to make sense. "Right." I can feel heat creeping across my cheeks. This entire situation is starting to get embarrassing. I don't know where I am, I'm practically naked in this bed (I don't count this thin blue gown as decent), and I am alone in this room with a guy who has a letter for a name.

"None of that makes sense to you, does it?"

I look away. "Not really, Mr. N. Not really."

"That okay. We're leaving soon, in a few hours, actually." Yes, because uprooting me from this place the moment I wake up is exactly what I wanted.

There is no way I can leave now; anyway, I'm hooked up to all these machines.

I frantically pat my side.

That tube in my chest is gone. That mask is gone.

Wow. I figured I would've been cognizant of something like that a lot sooner.

The only thing left is the needle in my arm and some prongs in my nose.

There goes my biggest excuse to stay here.

"We?" I imagine the only thing less enjoyable than spending time with N is spending more time with N.

His level of amusement appears to skyrocket, "We."

I search the room for Ombra, who is currently missing in action. Guess Ombra thought of somewhere to be at the most convenient of times.

I don't blame him; I'd do the same if I could.

I, however, am too feeble to leave this bed, I know it's useless to even attempt it, "I was hooked up to all these machines last I remember." I am actually sincere now. It's best I get some answers while I'm trapped here. "What happened to that?"

He is oddly eager to oblige. "Well, once you woke up from your unconscious state, it was really just about the rest of your body waking up. As I understand it, once you recovered from the acute trauma, you were going heal pretty rapidly. They are just giving you meds every now and again."

I digest this. "Well that's good." I pause, and try to think of something else to say, "Are we actually leaving? Like-" I wince a little, "-together?"

That serious look crosses his face again. "Yes, we have to." It was pleasurable to watch him say the 'we' word because it looks like it hurt him just about as much as it hurt me.

I break away from our discussion to study myself, "Do I have clothes to wear? Other than this? I'd like to have clothes, if I, you know, _have_ to go with you," I deliberately pluck at the robe draped over my body.

It is as if he is just now aware that this was a relevant issue. "You will." He chuckles. "You just got to give me a minute to find something."

"I can deal with that."

He stands up abruptly and claps his hands together. "Well, I better do that then. Why don't you eat and rest while I'm gone?" The faux enthusiasm drips from each syllable coming out of his mouth.

"Yeah." Food sounds really terrible.

N turns to leave; and is almost out the door before it's clear he doesn't mean to say anything else.

I wasn't ready for him to leave. At least he was someone to interact with. Someone sort of interesting, "Hey! N!"

He turns on his heel. "What?"

"Can you really hear the inner voices of Pokémon?" This is my lame apology for my earlier comment.

"Wouldn't it be kind of funny if I just deluded myself into thinking I could? Hell, I find that just as likely as me actually being able to hear them." Who knew? He has a sense of humor.

This time, we laugh together. It's the start of what could develop into a mutual tolerance. Could being the key word.

"Get some sleep Charlotte. I'll grab you some clothes. You rest a little longer. We're leaving in a few hours, tops." He makes a half-assed attempt at waving before hurrying off.

I close my eyes, "That's fine," I mumble back, not entirely sure if he's still within earshot. He never said anything back at any rate, and that was fine by me.

Soon after, a nurse and her Pokémon she's calling Audino come in with my medicine, this time, she's brought food with the medicine.

I do exactly as N told me to do, simply because it seemed reasonable.

I eat the bland food and wait for the narcotics to kick in, keeping my thoughts as far away from N as possible.

If I'm actually traveling with him, I'd better just enjoy my solitude while I still have it.


	7. Chapter 7:C: Home

**It**'**s been awhile since I've updated this story. I sort of just got busy, but then all of a sudden I had remembered that I didn't finish it, and then got back on my computer and started writing again :D Thanks to everyone who has been reading, and please review if you get the chance! Thank you!**

* * *

"Come on." Rough hands shake my shoulders; my own hands find the retreating fingers and pull them into my palms.

"I didn't say anything about going back to sleep." The hand in mine is trying to talk to me.

I might as well communicate with it.

I brought the hand up to my cheek, enjoying its coolness, "Just give me a few more minutes."

The fingers display a surge of energy and attempt to pry open my eyes.

"Ugh- what the-?" Meaningless colors are coming into focus. "N? Of course it's you. Here I was, having nearly forgotten you existed. What time is it?"

I sit up. This is the most exercise I must've done in awhile. My muscles ache.

"Early morning time." He shrugs. "Maybe like five or six."

Sure is quite the adventurous hour. "Good morning to you to."

"You've got clothes now." He gestures to a wad of fabrics draped over his forearm. "The nurses have all your discharge papers ready. I'll help you to the bathroom. Come on."

"Oh boy."

N gets the funniest looks on his face when he doesn't know how to keep a conversation going.

I keep it to myself, hiding the chuckle underneath this pretend issue about getting out of the bed. He has the decency to assist. We walk arm in arm for a few steps until I show some proficiency in balance.

He hands me the bundle of clothes and I go in to change after muttering some sort of thank you.

I step inside and sit on the toilet seat.

I can't be sure that N really exists. Nothing about him, or this world I've woken up in, adds up at all. Ombra belonged, he was the only thing that fit, and I can't even tell you where he went.

Maybe Ombra was just some fantasy I had too.

I should be on my way home soon. I'm tired of confusion. When I make it home, everything will go back to normal. There is no Unova. Unova doesn't exist, home, however, is out there somewhere. Home even has a name. That name lies just beyond memories I can recall.

Cherrygrove.

Cherrygrove City.

That was it. That was home.

Memories were coming back. My mind was just a little sleepy, that was all it ever was. The discharge nurse will clear everything up. I'm sure of it.

A new purpose possesses me, and I begin sifting through the clothes. I'm on my way out this nightmare. The determination even distracts me from the pain of moving.

I turn my attention to the mirror, untying the hospital robe. The reflection in the mirror is baffled. Mirror-me has tanned skin but a pale pallor. The face is gaunt, and it wears this pitiful, longing expression. The worst is my body. Scratches here and bruises there and incisions scattered all about. The body shape doesn't even match what I had imagined in my mind.

This is because I am thin.

I had always believed that thin would mean sexy. I am thin now, this is true, but I'm not sexy. I don't have that 'healthy glow' that I thought I would have. I guess that was a naïve notion, anyway, this is a hospital, and I was a patient here, so I couldn't be in all that great of shape.

That reflection is going to haunt me if I look any longer. I sit back down and rifle through the clothes. I fish out a bra that's a little too big.

Not sure if that's a complement or not. Suppose it's at least thoughtful.

I begin dressing, relishing in the feeling of decency. Being confined to bed rest and morphine really can eat away at the feeling of one's humanness. I continue to sift through my new things.

A sleeveless shirt that's too tight, black Capri's that are also too tight and probably stolen (I had to bite off a security sensor). A blouse that's too big. And last, but certainly not least, a pair of ankle boots that fit just right.

"Thanks N, at least you tried." I say to no one in particular.

I look back towards the mirror. My reflection is there again, looking much more befitting in the change of clothes. I reach out and touch the face reflected in the glass. I am Charlotte; this is what I look like.

The mirror pops open.

Behind the mirror are some standard toiletries. I decide to take advantage of this wondrously mundane finding. Combing my hair, using mouthwash, it all makes me feel a little more human. I replace everything exactly where I found it, avoiding looking at the actual mirror. This wasn't a time for lingering. It's time to be on my way.

I take one last deep breath and exit the bathroom.

This hallway is unfamiliar. I had to have been here before, but N was guiding me then and I didn't pay attention to where I was.

I don't know how to handle this.

I take a few steps forward, nervously looking around. No one seems to notice. I begin to slowly walk in a random direction until, luckily, the nurses' station comes up on the left, and Ombra is sitting by it.

He perks up and trots towards me.

"Ombra! We're going home, I'm sorry it took me so long." He brushes against my knees and a contented noise escapes his throat.

"Charlotte. Please come here." A plastic looking woman at the station is gesturing for me to take a seat.

I smile and sit down. "Sure."

Her return smile is faker than fool's gold. "How are you?"

"Good and yourself?"

Her eyes wander down at the papers in front of her. "Good." She refocuses on me. "Now, honey, we have no access to international information here and therefore had no previous access to your medical records. We created one for you here, but we need a last name." She looks so expectant.

Am I supposed to know that? Maybe I should lie.

"Davis." Lying does always make things better. "Charlotte Davis. From Cherrygrove City."

She writes this down. "Oh! You've come all the way from Johto! What brought you all the way out to Unova? So sorry you got sick while you were here, but I'm glad you're better. You have any ID?"

"Excuse me? Unova? And not exactly, no."

"Err-yes. That's okay. Are you feeling all right?"

N wasn't making things up. Or absolutely everyone has been cued in to tell me the same lie. Plastic lady is staring at me. "Oh-uhm-yeah, I'm sorry, my head is still just a little fuzzy. From everything." I laugh nervously and look away, that was such a lame excuse.

"Of course, honey. Good thing your friend is here to take care of you. I think he said he'd be waiting out front. Now, do you understand your discharge? Encouraged rest, no heavy exercise or lifting, no extensive walking, continue to put ice on that ankle." She rambled on in this fashion for too long.

"Yeah."

"Good, your meds are with your friend, he went ahead and got the prescriptions filled for you. You have an antibiotic and a painkiller. Take them with food if need be. And then this," she stops to circle a number on a sheet of paper. "Is the money you owe us for your stay, you have three months to mail this back to us or have your insurance contact us. Understood?"

Not at all. "Yeah."

"Great." She flashes the last million dollar smile of hers I hope to ever see and hands me the paper. "Oh! And one last thing, hun." She pulls a pokeball out of a basket, "This was found on your person when you were admitted. I think it's for your Pokémon."

She hands me Ombra's pokeball. I thank her and step away from the desk, Ombra follows.

I kneel to his level. "Hey buddy." I scratch the fur beneath his ears. "I don't know where we are. But you must be tired. I'll get us out of this. We'll get home. I promise." He touches his nose to my cheek, as if saying he understood. "You must be tired, though." He made no display to say he wasn't. "Rest for now, okay?"

I press the button on the ball. "Ombra, return." I hold the ball in my hand. It reminds me of something.

"I'll walk you to the front." It's some man, wearing scrubs, towering over me as I'm kneeling on the floor.

I slowly lift myself off the floor. "Yeah, thanks." He had cut me off from my train of thought.

He nods and wordlessly leads me to the front. I see N there, looking a little agitated.

"Hey, thanks again for-" the man is gone. Funny, he must have blended in with all these people out here.

N is nodding me over to him. I oblige. I don't even know what to say to him when I reach him.

We leave the facility together and emerge into a dark, quiet summer morning. Saltwater assails my nostrils. I feel overwhelmed already. This is the first whiff of the outside world I've had in some time.

"Are you all right?" N is urging me to stop blocking the Pokémon center entrance by tugging on my arm.

I am looking for something to say. I look straight at him, too, hoping the answer is written somewhere on his face. "Am I really in a place called Unova? Are you really taking me with you?"

"Yes. And yes."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I won't lie and say its ideal. But, you have nowhere else to go. And besides, my friend, or rather, your Pokémon, convinced me of it."

I look down at the lone pokeball clipped to my belt. "Ombra…"

"Yeah? He seems to be attached to you. By the way, where'd you come up with a name like that?" N touches the back of my hand and slowly begins to walk away from the ocean.

"I think it means darkness in some other language. I hope." I start to follow him, letting him lead me off into nowhere. "And if it doesn't, well, I think it suits him."

"I guess it does." He says simply.

After this, we enjoy the silence of the morning hour, letting the bay and the hospital fade away. I don't bring up the bill the hospital left me with, nor attempt to dwell on any memory that tries to surface while we walk. The silence is almost as peaceful as the morphine was.

Any conversation might shatter the silence.

I wasn't ready to break it just yet.


End file.
